Phylogenesis
by Sacha Lysander
Summary: Two years after he discovered his power and created his alter ego, Peter Parker is depressed, distraught and in despair. With the introduction to new villains and feelings of ontic despair, Peter must overcome these issues or be overcome. Please review!
1. Chapter One: Growing pains

Note: the formatting of this story is a little cattywompous especially pertaining to the dialogue. So please if you know how to format this story in a better way, please send me a review and help me.  
  
Chapter One  
  
The dark clouds loomed over the campus of New York University at the peek of the afternoon, covering the campus in a cloud of darkness. The clouds seemed to be too sinister and too dark for them to be present during the early afternoon college classes.  
Suddenly, it started to rain, pouring down as heavily as running water. Students without umbrellas ran into nearby building laughing at the unexpected shower. A few students casually walked through the rain letting themselves get soaked. The rain continued to pour for at least twenty minutes in this similar manner.  
Walking in the rain, almost drenched with an indifferent look upon his face, Peter Parker walked across a lawn to get to the student commuter parking lot. The only two things that were prohibiting him from getting totally soaked was his light black overcoat and his black winter cap on his head. His jeans were soaked for the most part along with his tennis shoes that were flooded with water. With remarkable speed, Peter got his keys out of his pocket and unlocked his car- a new black 2004 black four-door sedan that his flat-mate and best friend Harry Osbourne let him borrow.  
As he got inside that car, Peter shut the car door and leaned back into the driver seat and gave an exasperating sigh. He wiped his cheek with the back of his hand and sniffled. For a couple of minutes, he just closed his eyes feeling the heat of vent blowing on his face and the heated seat warming his cold body. All of a sudden, he opened his eyes and turned on the engine, anxious to get back home.  
***  
Sitting at the dinner table in a warm and comfortable flat, Harry Obourne was doing his Chemistry homework with a scorn upon his face. The dinner table was cluttered with miscellaneous papers with scribbles on them, a dozen sharpened and unsharpened pencils, a brand new graphing calculator, various Chemistry textbooks and self-help guides, three empty coffee cups and an half eaten piece of strudel. Harry leaned over, concentrating on one particular problem.  
"Come on. oh okay. I think I got it" he said cautiously, "I think I got. UGHHH!!!"  
With his sudden burst of emotion, he broke the pencil that he was using and threw it at the door as Peter was making his way into the flat. Peter looked at him with astonishment after he watched the pencil narrowly pass his thigh.  
"Gee, Harry. Did one of the secretaries misspell your name wrong again?"  
Harry smiled at his quip, referencing to the various incidents where one of Oscorp's new secretaries kept on misspelling Harry's name with "Hairy". Usually these incidents were pretty small, but the most recent event was of major concern when the secretary reordered a new sign to hang outside of Harry's new office door now labeled, "Hairy Osbourne" while visiting countries were visiting the company's headquarters and, of course, the office of the future C.E.O. of Oscorp.  
"I'm sorry Pete." he said getting up from the table and stretching. "I'm doing Chemistry right now and I just don't get it."  
"What kind of problem are you having trouble on?" Peter asked as he hung his shocked coat in the closet and took off his hat. Harry rubbed his eyes and yawned.  
"Molecular formulas. Here's the problem: 'a compound is 75.46% oxygen, 4.43% carbon, and 20.10% oxygen by mass. It has a molecular weight of 343.31 g/mol. What is the formula?'"  
Peter rustled his wet hair and sat opposite of Harry, leaning over on  
the table.  
"First, you have to get the mass of each of the elements. Use 100 grams because it is easier to use with percentages." Harry leaned over and bit the eraser on one of his pencils in thought. He pointed to his work on the paper, "Is that right?" Peter leaned over and turned the paper around. He squinted his eyes, having a hard time focusing. Peter sighed and retrieved his glasses out of his over-the-shoulder bag and put them on. Harry looked at him, puzzled. Peter looked over the work and nodded.  
"Yeah, you got it. After you finish that, you convert every one of these numbers into moles. okay?"  
"Yeah."  
"And then you." Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Instantly and oddly, Harry jumped up and answered it, reveling a blond medium-set woman in her early twenties behind the door. Harry smiled a huge grin.  
"Hello Jackie! Come on in!" Jackie returned the smile and entered into Harry and Peter's flat. She grinned a great big smile.  
"Oh my gosh Harry! It's beautiful! I love it!" she said in a high- pitched voice. Harry looked at his friend who was still sitting on the dinner table now equipped with a slight frown. Peter returned to the problem and was working on the problem on his own. Harry looked at Peter doing this and looked at Jackie.  
"Oh Jackie, this is my best friend Peter." Peter looked up. "Pete, this is Jackie, you remember Jackie right?" Peter looked up and nodded with a friendly demeanor. "Oh yes. Harry talks about you a lot. It's really nice to finally meet you." Jackie blushed a little bit and smiled at Harry for a second then returned to Peter. "Thanks, Peter." Jackie said stiffly. She looked at her watch and looked up at Harry. "Don't we need to get going? I don't want to miss the previews." Harry nodded and grabbed his coat while watching Peter's reaction to the newcomer. "I'm sorry Pete. Can we finish the problem later?"  
"Sure. Have fun." Harry was almost out of the flat when he turned around. "Pete, I've noticed that you've been limping. Are you okay?"  
Pete nodded, "Yeah, I think it's growing pains."  
"Growing pains? At twenty?" Pete smiled and shrugged as he leaned against the doorframe, "Well, I guess it is. I don't know."  
Harry nodded and grinned. "Don't worry; I won't tell anybody."  
"Thanks."  
"Oh, by the way," Harry said, "Don't stay up for me. I might take Jackie on a carriage ride around the city. Might take awhile."  
"Sure."  
"Bye Pete." Peter closed the door and sighed. Limping to the bathroom, he grabbed some ointment, gauze and a large bandage and headed to the couch. He pulled his pant leg up, uncovering a deep gash on his leg. While he attended this wound, he murmured something under his breath.  
"Growing pains." 


	2. Chapter Two: The pain of separtion

Chapter Two  
  
The sun had set and now New York City seemed to take on a different life. A few stores were closing up due to after hour sales and after-hour shoppers. Restaurants were now taking the trash out and cleaning the last group of dirty dishes. The few lively places equipped with outdoor parties and clubs were located a little a ways from the restaurant and vender districts, giving the workers of this sect a sense of true tranquility.  
Near an empty alley away from the street vender part of the city, a nondescriptive black van pulled up revealing six men that herded out carrying large empty bags. The group was now heading onto the shopping strip, moving toward an exclusive jewelry store.  
One of the six, a man of smaller stature lagged behind getting nervous at the shoplifting aspect of the night. The leader of the group, a stout and husky sort of man, turned around. "Come on Ralph! Hurry't up will ya? I don't got all night, ya hear?"  
Ralph nodded with hesitation and then dropped his bag with the leader looking on. "What're doin'? Are you stoned or you really just that stupid?"  
Ralph shook his head earnestly, picked up the bag and ran up to catch up with the rest of the guys. The leader, Alvaro, turned around to address the group.  
"Al'ight guys. You got the plan down 'ight? I don't want no screw- ups. J-Dog, go break the window, and run to the van and the rest of ya go into the store a grab as much as you can. Al'ight?"  
The group nodded. J-Dog went into his position, taking out a brick out of his backpack and put it in his hand. Before J-Dog could throw it however, someone, mysteriously, took the brick out of his hand and somersaulted and landed on the ground, facing toward the group. "Hiya."  
The group looked at the stranger who was camouflaged in the dark, with wide eyes. Alvaro wasn't impressed though.  
"What do you want you little freak?" The figure stepped out of the darkness. It was Spider-man.  
Alvaro started to get impatient. "I said what do you want you little Halloween freak?  
Spider-man turned his head slightly and shrugged his shoulders. "I wish you wouldn't call me that. It hurts my feelings."  
Alvaro laughed at the figure that was crossing his arms across his chest and turned around to face his hunch men. "Come on guys. Get rid of this guy. He's starting to annoy me."  
Ralph shook his head and fell down on the cold asphalt. "No, Boss! That's Spider-man! He's dangerous!" Ralph got up and started to run. After a couple of seconds, he tripped on the asphalt.  
Spider-man was still in his casual position watching Ralph get up, run and trip almost with satisfaction. The hunch men looked at Alvaro and then at Spider-man who was almost facing their boss.  
"I. don't know. boss. Maybe.let's just go!" said J-Dog inarticulately. He dropped his bag and started to run away from the strip following Ralph. The other hunch men followed the same example and headed away from the scene. Spider-man and Alvaro stood alone, facing each other. Spider-man broke the silence.  
"Maybe you should follow your friends. It is past your bedtime. I surely don't want to be the cause of you getting grounded again."  
Alvaro just looked at him and smiled a vile grin. "I wouldn't worry about that ya insect. Plus, you're gonna be the one grounded." He suddenly took a crow bar and swung it, attempting to hit it to Spidey's stomach. Spidey leaped and somersaulted and handed on the other side of Alv.  
"Hello. Miss me?"  
Alv spun around and as soon as he did that, Spidey tripped Alv, who ungracefully, landed hard on his back. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot." Spidey said as he was leaving. "A spider is not merely an insect, it's an arthropod."  
As he was launching a web from his wrist, he heard Alv say something with strain. "You're. gonna. PAY!!!"  
Then suddenly he moved quickly, pulled out a knife, and slashed Spidey's forearm. Spider-man cried out in pain and angrily side- kicked Alvaro into some trash cans. Spidey launched a web from his wrist and went into safety before he was hurt again.  
Getting on top of a school building, Spider-man angrily ripped off his mask revealing a sweaty, red and depressed face of Peter Parker. Peter lowered himself slowly on the platform holding his forearm. He pulled back the spandex of his uniform covering the wound and exposed it, watching the blood ooze out with remarkable speed.  
Pete crawled a few meters to grab his bag with his street clothes. He took out a towel and wrapped his wound up. A few tears ran down his cheeks and he began to put his street clothes on with care taking in account his cut forearm. He handled the arm with care, but it wasn't the cause of all of his pain. He wiped his tears away. As he climbed down to the ground, he wondered why he didn't sense that last attack.  
****  
It was 9 o'clock the next morning and Peter woke up to a throbbing head, the overall sense of soreness and the smell of pancakes filling the flat. Peter frowned as he looked down. He had went to sleep with his jeans, flannel jacket and tennis shoes on. He swung his legs over on one side of the bed, leaning over and tousling his hair that was soaked with sweat. He sat there for minutes, gazing in a indifferent and remorseful sort of way wondering how he got to be such a mess. He looked down at his injured arm and saw that it still had not healed and the blood had soaked up most of the towel. He shook his head wondering why all of a sudden he was not able to heal faster. He went into his medicine cabinet and took out a cloth bandage. As he was on his last "coat" of bandage, Harry called up to Peter.  
"Pete! Ya alive?"  
Peter regarded the comment darkly and murmured "no" to himself. With the realization that he couldn't go downstairs in the same clothes that he wore yesterday, Peter looked around, looking for something else to put on. He picked up a New York University t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants off the floor and put them on quickly. As he put the pants on, he tripped and fell hard on the ground.  
"Pete? Are you okay?"  
Peter groaned quietly. He finally put his sweatpants on, rustled his hair to have the appearance of just waking up. Before he headed down stairs he gave a sleepy look facade on his and yawned an award-winning yawn to compete the fabrication. 'I hate doing this' he told himself.  
As he made his way down the stairs, he noticed that Harry was at the kitchen table reading the business section of the paper. He looked up at Peter and grinned.  
"Gee, Peter. You look terrible." Harry grinned and continued. "Did you have a wild night?"  
Peter yawned another fake yawn and nodded. "Yeah, you know me."  
Harry smiled again and pointed to the stove area. "I made pancakes. Jackie gave me some tips on making better pancakes. I think they turned out well."  
Peter shook his head giving another award-winning performance along with a sleepy look. "Nah, maybe later. I'm not that hungry."  
Harry nodded and walked over to pancakes and started to put them  
into containers. "Oh yeah, that reminds me. We didn't have anything  
planned today or tomorrow did we?"  
"No. Why?"  
"Well," Harry said, "I was going to spend both days with Jackie. She wants to go to the Renaissance fair."  
"Oh. Okay."  
"You can come too." Harry said. "It'll be fun."  
"Ah, no. I'm not a Renaissance type of guy." Peter said. "Plus, I'm going back to Queens this weekend."  
"Back to Queens? Why on Earth would you do that?"  
"To visit and to can with Aunt May."  
"Can?"  
"Canning tomatoes." Peter explained. "I used to do it a lot when I was a kid."  
"Cool." Harry said sarcastically. "Do you wanna get out of it? I can rescue you."  
"No, thanks." Peter said. "If I really wanted to do that, I wouldn't be able to go anyways. Aunt May wants me to can with her friends that are coming over."  
"To can?"  
"To can." Peter said with a forced smile. 


	3. Chapter Three: Canning more than tomatoe...

Chapter Three  
  
It was nearly 12 o'clock when Peter Parker arrived at his childhood home in Queens. Dressed in casual wear suitable for canning tomatoes, he walked up to the front porch and rang the doorbell. Peter was waiting for a while for his aunt to answer the door, so he decided to take a look around his former home. The place appeared dead and desolate with weeds in the flower beds, burned-out spots in the lawn, dead leafs littering the driveway and untrimmed trees. He looked on the porch where he was standing and a candy wrapper was near his feet. He shook his head with penitence as he picked the piece of trash up and examined it with disgust. 'This is all my fault' he said to himself.  
Abruptly, Aunt May answered the door. She smiled a great big smile as she saw Peter. "Peter! Oh, dear! I'm so happy to see you again!" Aunt May didn't look her best either. She looked very sickly with a ghostly- white appearance and the obvious indication that she had lost a lot of weight. To add to those hints of something being terribly wrong, her content demeanor seemed to be forced and awkward. As Peter entered into the house, Aunt Meg began to ask a ton of questions: "Are you hungry?" "Are you feeling okay?" "You look tired; do you want to lie down?"  
May continued to ask Peter questions as she led him to the living room treating him like a ticking time bomb. Humoring Aunt May, he sat down on the old cloth couch. May came and sat down next to Peter.  
"So, how's school? Have you been focused this term?"  
Peter smiled and nodded, "Oh, yes. School's fine."  
May smiled and him and patted his knee before she got up from the couch and headed into the kitchen. "I'll get you something to eat before they come."  
Peter nodded and looked around the house. Everything was exactly the same as it was before he left. Various pictures still adorned the small piano and mantle along with countless old hand-made birthday and Christmas cards, an old handmade dinosaur clay paperweight that Peter made when he was six and his certificate for his academic scholarship to NYU. May still had her handmade quilt draped other the same old recliner chair, in addition to her old television set that was still positioned in the same position toward that recliner that it had been in for at least thirty years. After a couple of minutes examining everything with obdurate cognizance, May came back into the "living-in museum" of a living room and gave him a plate with a turkey sandwich on it with a side of potato chips.  
"Here you go, dear." She said in an impliable manner. She sat down again and looked at her nephew who was looking suspicious at her while he was eating.  
"Waz wong?" he asked with his mouth full of sandwich in a callous sort of way.  
May looked at him with surprise and laughed, "Oh my word Peter! Nothing's wrong! I'm just so glad to see you, that's all." Peter raised his eyebrows in agnosticism, "'Oh no," he muttered under his breath, "Here we go again."  
"You know, you never visit me Peter," May stated, rearranging some magazine on the coffee table in nervousness, "But I understand, your studies go first."  
Peter rolled his eyed and placed the plate on the table, "Oh, no Aunt May. Things have been really chaotic, especially last week when the toilet overflowed and Harry and I had to get an emergency plumber before the whole flat collapsed." Peter tried to smile a genuine smile as he looked at his aunt. "Look, I'll come more often for now on. School is less hectic and we fixed the toilet. So, I'll visit and do the lawn- and stuff."  
May smiled and nodded, "Yes, that would be nice; the lawn needs something. It's hard to find someone to do it for minimum pay."  
Peter frowned and got up from the couch swiftly which alerted May instantly. She looked at him with puzzlement. "Peter?" Aren't you going to finish your sandwich?"  
Peter started to head to the stairs when he turned around. "When are they supposed to be here?" he said stoically.  
May continued her puzzled look, "Uh, ten minutes." As Peter headed up the stairs, May called out to him.  
"Peter?"  
Peter turned around and smiled a fake smile, "Yes?"  
"Why don't you wear something a little better for canning? I put some pants and a shirt on your bed. Wear those; the clothes you're wearing could get dirty."  
"Yes, Aunt May."  
As Peter reached his bedroom, he angrily threw his carry-on bag on his old worn-out bed. He saw that also his room hadn't changed either which disgusted him. He flopped on the bed with a heated look upon his face, 'I guess I can't do anything right' he told himself. It angered him that his aunt thought that he was abandoning this fragmented and torn-apart family. It also sickened him that the whole house had not changed in the two years that he has been gone. 'Will I ever be on my own?'  
He looked on the other side of the bed and a pair of his worn-out jeans and an old, overlarge after school program t-shirt. He shook his head, 'I'm twenty and she's still bossing me around.' A few minutes later, he had on his jeans and large shirt on and he took a couple of minutes to sit on his bed and think.  
He looked around in his room and he remembered the good, old days where he wasn't Spider-man or wasn't 'technically' a freak. A few tears rolled down his eyes as he looked across this room and saw the bedroom window of Mary Jane Watson next door. He will always remember watching her getting ready in the morning brushing her hair and putting on her 'mask'. He also will remember that day at Norman Osbourne's funeral the vow of revenge from Harry and the haunting kiss from MJ. More tears rolled down his cheeks, 'I will never have a normal life'.  
All of a sudden, the doorbell rang and Peter looked out his window again looking through MJ's abandoned room and residence and callously wiped some stray tears running down his cheeks and lips. He walked out of his room and headed downstairs in order to start canning with everyone. As Peter continued to wipe his face with the back of his hand, he walked into the kitchen to meet Aunt May's friends.  
"Peter!" Aunt May said as she hurriedly walked over to Peter who had just arrived. "Peter, this is Emily Watson and her fiancé Rick Thompson."  
'Watson?' Peter asked himself. 'Watson as in-?' Just then he got his answer. A gal walked into the kitchen with a large box of Mason jars. The gal was Mary Jane Watson. 


	4. Chapter Four: Canning awkwardness

Chapter Four  
  
As soon as Peter saw Mary Jane, MJ nearly dropped all of the Mason jars on the floor in surprise when she looked right back.  
"Peter?" she asked dumbfounded, "What are you doing here?"  
Peter just looked at her. She changed a lot in those two years that they haven't seen each other. Her hair and dress were of a more conservative style. Her once "hair down" style was now up in a French braid and the à la mode clothing that she always used to wear now changed into conventional stylishness. MJ started to shift uneasily as the weight of the jars was putting a strain on her arms in addition to the way Peter was looking at her. She looked at him and walked past him to put the jars down on the table. Peter turned to face MJ again and she stammered.  
"Uh, I thought you weren't going to be here." She said as started to take out some of the jars out of the cardboard box.  
Peter leaned against an oak cabinet and nodded, "Yeah, well, I am."  
MJ nodded, studying his indifferent look. She sighed, turned away from him and murmured to her mother who was already engaged in conversation with Aunt May.  
"I'll get the rest of the jars."  
MJ hurried out of the house and closed the door a bit too loudly. Emily Watson looked at May with concern and followed her daughter out of the house. May looked at Peter with an austere look when both of them left the house.  
"Peter! Could you be a little more insensitive?"  
Peter looked at his aunt in indignation, "Me? I'm not the one that doesn't want me here!"  
"Peter-" Aunt May said with strain, "stop being a ninny." Peter rolled his eyes and fell into a dinette chair.  
"Look, Peter," May started, "I invited you both here today so you can get reacquainted and to also meet her new step-father to-be. I also thought it would be good for you and Mary Jane. You haven't seen her since Mr. Osbourne's funeral, you know."  
Peter hid his face in his hands and sighed a deep sigh, "I wish you didn't do that."  
May looked a her nephew with skepticism, "Why not?"  
"You wouldn't understand."  
"Well, help me to understand!" she said in a burst of emotion, "Help me Peter. I want to understand you. I want to know why you're always so upset and depressed and-"  
"I'm not depressed."  
May shook her head and got up from the table. "Peter, you are going to can whether you like to or not with Mary Jane. If you're not depressed, show it."  
Peter looked away from his aunt as the front door opened. Mary Jane and her mother came into the kitchen and Emily smiled a colossal smile that countered her daughter's insipidness.  
"Let the canning begin!"  
***  
It had been one hour of canning awkwardness. Peter and MJ were facing each other at the kitchen table doing their individual jobs. Peter was peeling off the tomato skins from the tomatoes and making runs back and forth to the stove area to get boiled tomatoes to their table. MJ was doing most of the pitting and cutting of the tomatoes. The progress of canning tomatoes is to strip the skins of the tomatoes, pit them, cut them up and place the cut pieces and juice into a pot were they will be heated later and placed in Mason jars. In that hour of sitting at the table and doing their work, they did not speak one word to each other.  
May and Emily were in the kitchen, heating the contents and putting them into the jars. During that process, they talked about everything from the home to Peter and MJ's education and career plans.  
"It seems that Mary Jane has had a change of heart concerning her career plans. She wants to go into journalism now."  
"That's wonderful!" Aunt May started, "What about acting?"  
"Well," Emily said, "Hobby for now, I'm guessing."  
During this conversation, Peter and MJ continued to give each other quick glances when one guardian was talking about one of them. Rick Thompson entered the dinette, the area of the house where MJ and Peter were, and sat down next to MJ with a pretzel stick hanging out of his mouth.  
"Hey Mary Jane! How are you doing?" MJ gave Rick a forged smile.  
"Well, okay," he said with hesitation, "Who is this, your boyfriend?"  
MJ looked at him with repugnance, "No! That's just Peter, a guy from my high school class."  
"Oh, okay." Rick said, unsure of what to say next. "Um, I'll go check on your mother."  
Rick left, leaving Peter to ponder on what MJ said. Getting out his pondering, he saw MJ stabbing the skinless tomato that was in front of her. Peter frowned as he continued to skin the tomatoes repeating the words that haunted him-"That's just Peter."  
***  
Another hour passed and Peter and MJ did not talk. Rick, Emily and MJ left with no incident. Peter and MJ just looked at each other with indifference and formality, which alarmed May a great deal. After they left, Peter went to clean the kitchen and stove. Soon after accomplishing that, he ran up to his room and May didn't see him again until the morning after. 


	5. Chapter Five: The ninny

Chapter Five  
  
"How did you survive?"  
Harry was sitting at the foot of Peter's bed, watching him dig his face into the bed and having some difficulties in covering himself with covers.  
"I don't want to talk about it." He said, his voice muffled.  
"Pete!" he said pulling the cover off of his head, "You can't fester like this; it's not healthy."  
"Watch me." Peter said darkly and he ripped the blanket from Harry's grasp and pulled it over his head.  
"Come on, Olivia Newton-John," coxed Harry, "You can't lay in this bed all day; you have class in thirty minutes."  
Peter cautiously and slowly pulled the blanket off of this head and looked at him, "Class. Cancelled. Blah!" he yanked the cover almost as quickly as he spoke.  
Harry folded his arms across his chest as he enigmatically grinned, "Your aunt was right; you are a ninny".  
Peter pulled the covers off of him and sat on the edge of his bed, "You're wrong and misinformed." He got up, looked out of the window and turned around abruptly, "I'm sorry Harry that I'm not the happiest person in the world. My aunt thinks I'm so pathetic that she has to set me up at a canning tomato exploratory with a girl that I've haven't seen in like two years because I told her that I just wanted to be friends!" he said sarcastically and overdramatically as he waved his hands about.  
"Don't fret too much about that. My personal assistant tried to set me up with a German drill sergeant named Liepmayt."  
Peter walked closer to Harry with a terrified look upon his face, "MJ was stabbing a tomato. Stabbing! I'm fearing for my life because I think she's going to stab me like she stabbed that tomato!"  
"Well, you know Pete, it was awkward for the both of you. You haven't seen each other in two years and the last time you two did see each other, you turned her down like an inflated pancake."  
"Well, thank you Dr. Phil, that's really reassuring. It's not enough that I'm vexed over the whole situation, but you have to make me feel even better." Peter said as he slid his back again his dresser drawer and sat down on the ground.  
"Pete," Harry said as he squatted to see Peter at eye-level, "You're really not giving me much to be on your side of this."  
"What? You're against me? You're on her side?"  
"Very good, Einstein," Harry said, "The girl of your dreams wants to be with you and you broke her heart. What the heck were you thinking? Were you on cough medicine or something?"  
"It's complicated."  
"Chemistry is complicated Peter; love isn't."  
Peter got up from the floor and headed down the stairs, "Maybe for you, Harry, but not for me."  
Harry followed Peter downstairs and into the kitchen. Peter went into the refrigerator and grabbed bottled water while Harry leaned on the counter.  
"You need to apologize Peter."  
Peter looked at Harry with vehemence as he frustratingly tried to open his bottled water, "Me? Why? She's the one that-"  
"Because Peter." Harry simply said as he grabbed Pete's water and opened it. "Women are always right." He handed Peter's water back to him, "Women are always right whether they are right or not."  
Peter looked at Harry with perplexity and place his fingertips at his temples, "Gee, and I though law was a complicated language."  
Harry smiled knowingly and stated as haughty as possible, "You will become a Jedi, I promise."  
***  
The clock in the kitchen continued to blink 9:00 P.M. Peter stared at the clock for a few seconds, then yawned and stretched. He had been sitting at the kitchen table for at least four hours studying and doing homework. He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. His muscles were also yearning for movement.  
"Gee, time flies fast when you're having fun."  
Then suddenly, he felt the rig of his skull instantly coming cold- his 'Spider-sense'. Frowning, he got up form the table and looked down at the New York City sidewalk. He frowned again and shook his head. "Oh, no," he said with ennui, "not tonight." 


	6. Chapter Six: The father

Chapter Six  
  
The next day, one of the lecture halls at New York University was nearly deserted except 15 students being scattered over the first five long rows of chairs. In front, the professor, Dr. William Hanes, was writing some mathematical problems on the vast blackboard. Dr. Hagan is in his early sixties with short grey hair resembling Albert Einstein. After writing several problems on this board, he turned around smiling and pointed to the blackboard.  
  
"Volunteers," he said nonchalantly, "come to the board and do these problems. It is of your best interest to pay attention; these are the most common mistakes on your exams and you'll need to know this for the final."  
  
A mass of students raced to the board, picking out the easier problems from the selection. As Dr. Hagan smiled at the pandemonium, he noticed Peter Parker still sitting in his chair rubbing the left side of his neck with his left hand quite profusely. Suddenly, Dr. Hagan 's gaze switched to the blackboard where all problems had solutions except the last one.  
  
"Wow, great job folks. But, you have forgotten the last one. Is that a coincidence?" Mummers and chuckles from most of the students spread through the class. "Well, if no one will volunteer, I'll pick someone." He looked around and looked directly at Peter. "Pete, what about you? You got this question right on the exam."  
  
Peter Parker stepped out quite timidly and stiffly out and moved to the blackboard to start working out the problem with remarkable speed, accuracy and neatness. In no time at all, he finished with the problem and started to limp back to his seat. The class watched the 20 year-old runt make his way back to his seat.  
  
"Great! Now," he said as he pointed to the blackboard, "you have all of the correct answers to these questions." Suddenly the bell rang, leaving Hanes little time to yell out information before students left, "Now, you can pick up your test! See y'all tomorrow!"  
  
Dr. Hanes walked back to his desks to pick up miscellaneous stuff and looked up. He saw Peter still in the hall, picking up his notebooks and textbooks rather laboriously and slowly. Dr. Hanes looked at him with concern.  
  
"Peter? Can I see you for a moment?"  
  
Peter looked up and started to walk toward Dr. Hanes's desk with his backpack on his shoulder along with a slight limp in his step.  
  
"Are you alright Pete?" he asked as he leaned into his desk, "You seem a little distracted today," Hanes looked away and returned his gaze for a second and continued "-and stiff."  
  
Peter frowned slightly, "Uh, yes, I guess. Has it hindered my performance in class today?"  
  
Hanes smiled as he handed Peter's math test to him with an A-plus marked in red. "Oh no, Peter, not at all. I'm just concerned. How did you get that limp? You didn't have it yesterday."  
  
Peter looked at Mr. Hanes nervously, and then studied his exam undemonstratively, "Uh, well, I must have sat on my foot."  
  
Hanes searched and gazed at him before responding, "Umm… okay." Hanes started to get his stuff together and motioned Peter to accompany him, "Come. Walk with me for a bit. Are you going back home for the night?"  
  
Peter looked at his professor and started to put his black coat on. "Yes." Hanes looked at him skeptically.  
  
"6:30 on a Friday night?"  
  
Peter frowned slightly then responded with caution, "Yes-"  
  
Hanes started to walk out of the hall while Peter contained his frown walking beside him. "You're not going to a party or a hot date?" he said sarcastically, "I'm truly surprised!"  
  
Peter watched Hanes lock the door. Both guys started to walk together out of the Mathematical building, "Actually," Peter stated with sarcasm, "I am going to a Marilyn Manson concert at midnight and having a copious amount of alcohol at the pub after, even though the bartenders are still mystified that a guy like me would go into a rock pub."  
  
"What about your fake ID?" Hanes asked continuing the joke. Peter continued his blank look as he got his car keys out of his pocket, "Already have it."  
  
Hanes smiled at Peter as they reached Peter's car, "Listen Pete. If you need me for anything, anything, you can always ask. Okay?" Peter gave Hanes an unreadable look, then reluctantly responded, "Thank you Dr. Hanes. I appreciate it."  
  
Hanes looked at him with seriousness before retorting, "You really need rest. I think your stiffness could be stress related. I don't want you to be ill, okay?" Hanes then looked at Peter and sighed.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be lecturing you. It's just that you're the closest thing to a son to me. I know I must sound creepy."  
  
An uncomfortable silence followed. To break the silence, Dr. Hanes waved Peter a goodbye. "Well, goodnight Peter. Don't drink too much!"  
  
Peter looked back as he continued to walk toward his car, "I won't." he replied inexplicably.  
  
***  
  
In his room, Peter Parker was lying on his bed fully dressed with labored and arduous breathing. His eyes were closed, as though he was concentrating on something. His eyes had dark circles under them among other signs of sleep deprivation. All of a sudden, his telephone rang. Pete didn't open either of his eyes and reached for the phone extending his arm.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
A man on the other line replied in a snobby Oxford English accent. "Is this Peter Parker?"  
  
Peter frowned askance as he opened his eyes and sat up in apprehension. "Who's inquiring?"  
  
The man sighed in the phone and spoke slowly, "Thomas Jean, teacher assistant to Dr. William Hanes. You are Peter Parker, right?"  
  
"Right."  
  
"Dr. Hanes wants to remind all of his students that the visit to Dr. Ham Simon's home will be tomorrow at 7:30p.m. He also wants to remind you all that you must not wear jeans or any other informal wear. You will all meet in the Café Martine near the home. Do you know where the Café Martine is?"  
  
Peter frowned and he walked over to his window and looked out, "Yes."  
  
Jean waited a couple of seconds and then spoke a farewell, "Thank you." Peter hung up and finally after a couple of minutes just thinking on his bed, he went back to sleep.  
  
***  
  
It had been a few hours later and Peter continued to lie on his bed fully dressed, even with his eyeglasses on. His breathing had relaxed and now. He appeared to have a nightmare, impulsively rubbing his left leg up and down his right shin in addition to jerking his head. All of a sudden, he woke up from his hard sleep to the sounds of Harry coming into their flat. He got out of his nightmare and turned on his side. 


	7. Chapter Seven: The divided fall

Chapter Seven  
  
The next day in the Café Martine, 15 students were sitting in various tables throughout the café laughing and talking loudly. Peter was in a far corner of the café reading. He is looking more tired than usual with his dark circles under his reddish eyes. Jackie, Harry's new girlfriend, was sitting with her loud group of friends turned and looked at Peter who was trying to suppress a yawn. She looked at him, feeling a bit guilty that she did not recognize him when she visited his flat as being in her Calculus Three class in addition to snubbing him a few days ago in that same situation. She had it in her mind to talk to him to patch things up. Just then, Dr. Hanes walked into the Martine with a grin on his face.  
"What a surprise! Everyone's here! Marvelous!" Then, Dr. Hanes abruptly became business-like. "Alright. I believe I told you this before, but I will repeat it. Dr. Simon is not entirely friendly. I had him for a professor and he never talked to me very kindly, so be warned. Try to say as little as possible. Let's go."  
In a couple of minutes, they reached the grand house of Dr. Ham Simon, which the architecture resembles Roman style and southern plantation flair. As they headed toward the home, the butler opened the door and led them into the hallway. Peter was right behind Dr. Hanes, but now, he became part of the mass of students laughing and talking loudly. Jackie noticed that Peter looked like he was going to collapse and frowned in concern . He leaned his head against the doorframe, squeezing his eyes shut. Jackie left her friends unnoticed and walked right to him.  
"You look really tired Peter." She went into her backpack and took out a sugar stick and handed it to Peter. "Here. I think this will keep you awake."  
Peter looked at her with a smile of greeting and suspiciously fingered the sugar stick that she gave him and looked up. "What is it?"  
Jackie smiled at him. Peter returned her smile with an extremely confused look. Jackie smiled again at his bewilderment. "It's basically a sugar stick; nothing more."  
Peter looked at her with surprise, "Uh-thanks- but will it really help me to stay awake?"  
Jackie nodding, "Yep, it works for me. So," Jackie said trying to continue the conversation. "- were you pulling an all-nighter or something?"  
Peter looked at her in a deadpan fashion, "Not exactly. I was in a moosh pit for about an hour at the pub last night."  
Jackie regarded his severe sarcasm and smiled, "Really? Was it fun? I have never been in a MOSH pit before."  
Jackie and Peter smiled at each other in understanding. Peter, accordingly, tried to open the sugar stick with his mouth. He finally got into the stick and tasted his first sugar stick. Then abruptly, he started to cough.  
"Nice, isn't it?" Jackie asked in between laughs.  
"Yeah." Peter said amid coughs.  
"Are you lethargic now?"  
Peter smiled at her genuinely, "No, I can't say that I am."  
Jackie placed her back next to the wall and pointed to the remains of the sugar stick in his hand. "The thing is that the sugar stick is only too strong when it is eaten all at once."  
Peter smiled while he was still coughing. "That's good to know."  
At that moment, the butler came back and ushered everyone into the main dining room.  
***  
It had been an hour since the meal started, and the dinner was coming to an end. However, Dr. Hanes did not expect his former teacher's behavior to his best students: Peter and Jackie. Dr. Simon, an old man in his nineties, was talking exclusively to Jackie and Peter. Peter was reservedly listening to Dr. Simon while Jackie engaged full-heartily into the conversation.  
"I was very surprised by both of your thesis papers. Usually my seniors would not been able to do such a meticulous and pedantic work as both of you somehow accomplished. I enjoy having gifted students like you in class."  
Jackie smiled at Dr. Simon's praise, "Thank you Dr. Simon. I really enjoy mathematics."  
"Are you a math major?"  
Jackie nodded, "Yes. I want to be a math professor."  
Simon smiled as he lifted his fork in agreement, "Yes, that's the best job!" As he started to chuckle, he looked over at Peter who is sitting quietly with a nauseous expression on his face. Dr. Simon put in fork down in concern, "Mr. Parker? Are you alright? You look a little feeble-"  
Unexpectedly at that precise moment, Pete fell off of his chair and landing hard on the ground. People who were dining with Dr. Simon leaned over and saw Peter getting up, rubbing his head. Dr. Simon leaned over.  
"Peter?" Dr. Simon said in a worried tone, "Are you all right lad? You hit the ground pretty hard. Do you have Narcolepsy, Peter?"  
Pete finally sat up, sitting on the ground with his legs out in front of him. His face was totally scarlet and full of embarrassment. "Oh, it's nothing. I didn't get much sleep last night."  
Just then Peter noticed that the whole table was looking straight at him as though he had a disease. Much to Peter's relief, Dr. Hanes came and interrupted everyone from staring at him.  
"I think you may need some fresh air." Dr. Hanes said as he gestured Peter outside. Hanes planned to stay with Peter, but Dr. Simon had other ideas.  
'Hanes! Come in here! Let Mr. Parker be!"  
Hanes sighed, "Alright!" He looked at Peter with concern, "Are you gonna be okay?"  
Pete simply nodded and watched as Dr. Hanes unwillingly left him outside. The door shut and Pete stood there, looking out and trying to think of what to do next. Tears weld up in his eyes and he started to quietly weep. His face had just turned an unhealthy white and the signs of sleep deprivation seemed to take a heavy toll on his appearance. His eyes were red of agitation and worry and his face seemed to be permanently in an indifferent look. Then unpredictably, he passed out and fell on the cold ground. 


	8. Chapter Eight: Waiting room drama

Chapter Eight  
  
Two days passed as Peter Parker lie in his hospital bed at Mercy Memorial Hospital with Aunt May by his side. He already had a fever that was giving him constant nightmares. His hair was soaked with sweat; his eyes did not have the bags under them. He was surrounded with covers, pillows and comforts galore. He was jerking his head sporadically as though he was in the process of yet another nightmare. Outside of his room, Jackie and her childhood friend Steve were in the waiting room along with Dr. Hanes and Dr. Simon and Rick Thompson, Emily and Mary Jane Watson . While Jackie and Steve seemed to be having a pleasant conversation, Hanes and Simon were arguing and Rick and the Watsons were not talking at all. Suddenly appearing in the doorway with an air of self-importance, J. Jonah Jameson stepped into the waiting room irritably and in haste. He called on one of the nurses that was taking care of Peter. The nurse was a middle- aged African American woman with an amazing complexion.  
"Excuse me," Jameson said in a self-aggrandizing tone, "can you tell me about the status of Peter Parker?"  
"I cannot sir unless you are a family member. Are you?  
"No."  
"Well, I'm sorry sir. You will have to wait like everyone else in the waiting room."  
Jameson eyed the nurse and crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a horrid look. " Do you have any idea who you are talking to? I'm J. Jonah Jameson from the Daily Bugle-"  
"Look, Mr. Daily Bugle" she said in a mocking tone, "I don't care even if you're Barbra Streisand, you're not going in right now."  
" I'm his employer. I have the right to know what's going on. He hasn't been at work and my newspaper is suffering-"  
"Like I said before, I don't care. Wait like everyone else, Your Highness."  
"Expect a call from my attorney!"  
"Oooh," answered the nurse with sarcasm, "I'm scared now."  
Jones frowned, shook his head furiously, turned and sat at one of the chairs in the waiting room, picking up a teen magazine. He threw the magazine down as soon as he glanced at it. He walked hastily to the magazine table and browsed through the magazine and newspaper titles: The Daily Woman, Horse and Saddle, Automobile Bi-Monthly, Nerd Monthly, Dust Mites Magazine, Cell Phone Journal and The Enquiring Star. He walked wrathfully over to the receptionist and held up three magazines in his left hand. Jameson took one of the magazines, Dust Mites Magazine, and opened it to a random page as he slammed the other magazines on the receptionist's desk  
"Excuse me?! Is there anything remotely intelligent to read around here? I'm fed up reading stupid articles like 'How to clean the dust mites from your sunglasses'! Where's the Daily Bugle? Now, THAT'S an intelligent newspaper!"  
The receptionist looked at him with monotony and sighed, "Sir, if you don't want to read our magazines, then bring a book."  
"Excuse me?! Bring a book! You've got to be kidding! The waiting room at the Daily Bugle-" As Jameson continued to argue with the receptionist about the magazine selection and the idea of bring books to waiting rooms, Jackie and her friend Steve continued their conversion about Peter Parker.  
"What actually happened to this guy?" Steve asked as he crossed his one leg over the other while looking at a magazine. "Is he a drug user, abuser, alcoholic?"  
Jackie laughed and suddenly went into a deadpan look. "No. Who gave you that idea?" she asked as she continued to flip through her magazine.  
Steve closed his magazine and answered sarcastically. "Oh, I don't know-- maybe it was the 'near the end of dinner, he collapsed out of his chair' and oh! What about this one-- 'out in the freezing weather of New York City, he, yet again, collapsed on the snow'?"  
"Aw, come on Steve! You don't honestly believe that-- the nurse said he was suffering through severe sleep deprivation."  
Steve looked at his friend defected as he ran his heavy hand through his short red hair. "Okay, but don't you think it's odd? And not only that- why exactly are we here? Do you personally know this guy?"  
"Yes, like I told you. He's in my Calc-"  
"Yeah, you told me that, but there's much more than that. Do you think I'm a total moron? When I was in college, I didn't visit random girls in the hospital. What's the real deal? Are you having an affair with Peter? If Harry found out-"  
Jackie looked at Steve with some disgust, then threw her hands up and remarked sarcastically. "Okay Steve. You caught me! Peter and I were planning to sneak away from my nosey friend and his large barbarian boss!" She began now to speak in dreamlike sarcasm. "We were planning our fourth month anniversary of Calculus Three together in each other arms reciting math theorems with strawberries and chocolate." She bent over with mocking seductively, "You have no idea how sexy derivatives are."  
"You were!!!???"  
Jackie looked at him and hit him on the head with her rolled-up magazine. "YOU DINGBAT! I can't really believe that you got into graduate school!"  
Steve smiled and pat her on the shoulder, "Yeah, I understood what you meant. I was joking." He continued now with renewed concern. "But what was the real motivation?"  
"Well, in all honesty, I wanted to figure out if I was the cause of his collapse tonight."  
"What did you do? Propose the 'Calculus Three Weekend Getaway thing'?" Steve asked, grinning.  
Jackie looked at him with seriousness. "No. I gave him a sugar stick. I should have asked him if he was allergic to corn syrup, dyes-"  
"Sugar?"  
Jackie nodded with agitation, "Sugar. ugh, I'm so stupid."  
Steve turned to face her, "No, you're not. Besides, you said it was sleep deprivation. And by the way, I had Dr. Simon before. He favors guys who visit the hospital often; they must remind him of himself- nurses and all that. You know?" He concluded, adding a wink.  
Jackie shook her head. "I don't think Peter goes for that sort of thing. But I wouldn't doubt that about Simon." She said with a smile, then abruptly looked at her watch. "Ugh. I need coffee." She got up from her seat and faced Steve while going into her purse, "You want some too?"  
Steve shook his head, "Nah. I'm on a caffeine-free diet thingy. Need to flush my colon."  
Jackie smiled, "Alright."  
She walked out of the waiting room, passing the argument that Jameson was still having with the receptionist and vanished into the walkway looking for the coffee machine. Steve frowned as he looking around the waiting room, bored out of his mind. He got up and walked to the receptionist and before he could say anything, he looked down and saw Horse and Saddle was still lying on the desk. Jameson stopped arguing as he witnessed Steve walk away from the desk with Horse and Saddle in his hand, slump down on his chair and started to read it earnestly.  
"You must understand sir," the receptionist said with a smirk as she witnessed the same event, "The world doesn't revolve around you."  
Jameson looked at her, frowned and snatched Automobile Bi-Monthly from the desk and plunged into his seat and irately gawked at the front cover. 


	9. Chapter Nine: In the realm of Tolstoy

Chapter Nine  
***  
Walking in the cool damp weather after the rain soaked the streets, Peter Parker was dressed in street clothes with his shoulder bag on his shoulder and a camera hanging off of his neck. While walking in the middle of a vacant street, he felt a surge of fear with the help of his 'Spider- sense' and turned around immediately and saw a cloaked figure walking down the same vacant street toward him as he called out in a enigmatic voice:  
"Peter. Come to me."  
Peter was saturated with fear as he watched the cloaked figure getting closer to him. He felt paralyzed, unable to move. Suddenly, a figure appeared swinging from the skyscrapers to the ground while Peter and the cloaked figured watched. It was Spider-man.  
Peter frowned and quizzically looked at the mask figure, but Spider- man broke Peter's train of thought. "Peter, come with me if you want to live."  
Peter grimaced and nodded his head cautiously as he put his bag and camera down on the ground. Both Peter and Spider-man flicked their wrists, using their webs to get them to safety. As they reached the top of a skyscraper, Peter found Mary Jane in her pajamas with her face red and full of tears. She ran up to him.  
"Peter! You're okay." she said as she hugged him. "I was so worried."  
Peter hugged her, feeling absolute joy and happiness. He gently pulled away from her and smiled, "I'm here, MJ. I won't leave. I won't."  
As Peter hugged Mary Jane again, he felt another surge of fear and turned around quickly. He saw Spider-man standing side-by-side with the cloaked figure. Spider-man shook his head.  
"I'm so sorry Peter. It wasn't in my power to stop it."  
Peter looked at the figure with terror as the cloaked figure pulled out his hands and simulated a 'choking motion' with his hands. At that moment, Peter felt the sensation that someone was choking him. Before collapsing on the ground, he pleated with the cloaked figure to stop.  
Mary Jane leaned over at the dying Peter Parker. Tears ran down her cheeks freely as she cried out.  
"Peter! No! Peter- you- promised to be always with me! Peter!" she wiped the tears off of her face roughly. "Peter!" she cried out wailing as she saw the lifeless Peter, "You promised Peter! You--"  
***  
"-promised!" J. Jonah Jameson said as he barged into Peter's hospital room waking Peter from his dream. The nurse stomped into the room with a scorn upon her face.  
"No." said the nurse with controlled anger, "There was no promise sir. I would remember." The nurse caught a glance of May Parker with a shocked look upon her face, standing near Peter's bedside.  
"No. YOU'RE mistaken!" Jameson said as he scrutinized Peter in his hospital bed. "Gee-oh-whiz, he looks like-"  
"You don't want to tell me that I'm wrong!" the nurse said interrupting with a burst of emotion thrusting her pencil in Jameson's direction. "No one says that to Melba Jackson! No one!"  
"Why is it so loud in here?" Peter asked as he tried to open his eyes. May started to fluff his hair, speaking affectionately to her nephew to calm and ease him. Peter finally opened his eyes, smiled at his aunt May, looked at the nurse with a quick smile and then rolled his eyes when he saw Jameson.  
"Oh, I am so sorry Mr. Parker!" the nurse said with remorse in her voice. "Do you want anything? Do you want this man in here or should I haul his behind out?"  
Peter looked at Jameson and frowned slightly, "Let him stay please." Peter first looked at Jameson who nodded at the decision and then to Aunt May.  
"Aunt May, can I have something to eat please?"  
May smiled and nodded, "Of course, dear. I'll be back soon."  
"Thank you."  
The nurse smiled at Peter and scowled at Jameson while she walked out of the room with May. As soon as the nurse shut the door, Jameson looked at Peter with severity.  
"Parker! What in the name of The Rock's bald head are you doing here!? Playing hopscotch?"  
Peter rubbed his temples trying to control his temper and looked up with a guise of exhaustion, "Did the nurse tell you?"  
Jameson gave him a ruthless look, "Well, Parker, if I did know, I wouldn't be asking you now, would I?" He paced for a few seconds and then glared intensely at Peter, "Did you have any idea how behind we are at the paper because of you? Do you? I had to resort to accepting garage for the front-cover photo for the past two days!"  
Peter stiffly and slowly pulled himself up from his bed, reveling his lack of strength, his thinning torso, his cow-licked hair and drossiness.  
"I realize that. But I've been working to an exhausted condition. I collapsed sir. I collapsed! What does that mean?" Peter asked as he pulled himself even further up from his relaxed position.  
"Are you blaming me Parker? Is that it? Are you punishing me from not giving you more money for your cheesy photos? Huh?" he asked furiously as he paced back and forth.  
"No, sir."  
Jameson just looked at him and started to head out the door. He stopped and turned around.  
"I'll get a sub for you. I'll give you a week to get back up to your feet. Understand?" Peter nodded and managed to smile a faint smile, 'Thank you, sir."  
Jameson nodded as he ushered his way out of the room passing the nurse, ignoring her. The nurse frowned at Jameson as he hurriedly moved out of the doorway into the hallway. The nurse smiled at him sweetly and genuinely.  
"Hello Mr. Parker! Do you want anything?"  
"Uh, yes." Peter said as he noticed his aunt May coming into the room and put some food and apple juice on the table near his bed. "Can I just have some time alone?"  
The nurse and May acquiesced and smiled, "Of course. No more visitors today!" Aunt May hugged and smiled at Peter before heading into the hallway, shortly followed by the nurse that eventually closed the door.  
Peter, now alone, just sat in his bed and sighed. He lowered himself further in his bed and groaned, waiting for the darkness to overcome him. 


	10. Chapter Ten: Neurosis

Chapter Ten  
  
The hospital remained busy into the late afternoon and early evening hours. Many of the people that were in the waiting room waiting for Peter's condition to be known were still there. Jackie and her friend Steve left for a late class, having the intention of visiting again early the next morning. J. Jonah Jameson also had left hours ago on the account of business. Peter's aunt May had stayed at the hospital for most of the three days, only going back home to wash and change. Emily Watson and Rick Thompson spent some of the time walking through some of the hallways talking, leaving Mary Jane there in the waiting room with an apprehensive expression on her face while sitting next to Aunt May. Around six in the evening, Dr. Hanson Moore entered into the waiting room and looked around. He nodded as he made eye contact with May and walked over to her with a swift pace.  
"Mrs. Parker." He said as he smiled a tired smile, "How are you doing?" he asked as he motioned her to seat down. "I have some good news and bad news."  
May gave the doctor an expression of terror as she took Mary Jane's hand in search of comfort. The doctor glanced at MJ who also had a timorous expression on her face.  
"The good news is that Peter's going to be okay. It seems, like I told you before, that his severe sleep deprivation caused him to collapse and faint. However, there is more to this than meets the eye."  
May looked at the doctor and tightened her grip on Mary Jane's hand. "Is this the bad news?" The doctor kneed to look at her at eye-level and nodded solemnly.  
"It seems that Peter has also been suffering from Post-traumatic stress disorder." May looked at the doctor confused and lessened the grip on MJ'S hand while MJ after hearing the news, guilt splashed all over her face as she buried her face in her hands.  
"The hospital's psychologist, Dr. Thomas Davis, has been telling me for these past few days that Peter has experienced a variety of symptoms that are associated with this disorder like nightmares, depression, dizziness, body aches and various emotional problems such as emotional numbness, detachment, difficulty feeling affectionate, lost of interest and feelings of intense guilt. He has been 'the winter of his life'."  
May nodded sadly. "What could have caused this?"  
"Anything really," Dr. Moore stated, "from a traumatic accident, an emergency situation, daily life, the workplace to family responsibilities."  
"His uncle's sudden death?" Mary Jane asked quietly.  
Dr. Moore just looked at Mary Jane and nodded, "Yes. That is possible. It is my recommendation that Peter should see Dr. Davis to sort through these emotional difficulties."  
May and Mary Jane nodded as they watched Dr. Moore exited the waiting room. May looked at Mary Jane who had tears running down her cheeks.  
"It's okay Mary Jane, it's okay. He'll be fine." She said as she gave MJ a hug, "Peter has always been strong; he'll get through this." MJ nodded despondently and hugged May back.  
***  
It was very early Saturday morning and Mary Jane was pacing back and forth in the waiting room while studying people that were asleep in the waiting room chairs. MJ had tried for hours to get sleep, but couldn't. 'Post-traumatic stress disorder?' she asked herself as she explored into a new hallway where a few late shift nurses were checking up on patients, 'Poor guy. And I was upset with him. Ugh. He must hate me.'  
Mary Jane walked back to the waiting room and stood around, wondering what to do. She was getting irritated of a few people who were snoring and breathing loudly, so she went into Peter's hospital room without detection from the hospital guards.  
As she walked in, she was relieved that Peter wasn't snoring or breathing loudly. Taking in this fact, she sat down on a chair that was near Peter's bedside. In the bright moonlight, she could see much of the room. The place was decorated with various cards, balloons and stuffed animals. She could tell that Peter's back was faced toward her and had the appearance of being asleep. Abruptly, Peter shifted in his sleep and turned on his other side facing Mary Jane. She saw that he was not asleep at all and was just as awake as she was. He had a depressed look on his face and let out a heavy sigh. Then, he looked up and widened his eyes to the sights of Mary Jane.  
"Hi, Tiger."  
Peter just looked at her as he used his elbows to thrust his chest off of the bed. He smiled finally, "Hi, MJ."  
Mary Jane finally studied him with his unkempt appearance. He had the materialization of not being shaved for several days along with his cow- licked hair, bags under his eyes and a sickly constitution. MJ cleared her throat, trying to get out of this awkward moment.  
"I'm sorry I barged in here like this. Everyone in the waiting room is snoring and I couldn't sleep and-"  
"Don't worry about it; I couldn't sleep either." He interrupted coarsely as he tried to push himself up. "How did you hear about me being in the hospital?"  
Mary Jane smiled, "The hotline."  
"Oh, yeah." Peter said as he rubbed his eyes, "Of course. My aunt will always pass information to your mom. I should know that by now."  
MJ smiled nervously and put a fleece cover that was on another chair on herself, "How are you doing? Feeling better?"  
Peter looked at her and descended into the bed, "Yeah, I guess." He suddenly looked at her with suspicion, "Have you heard about -?" MJ nodded and looked at him with sympathy.  
"I'm so sorry, Pete. I had no idea."  
"Neither did I." Peter said with a poignant tone.  
They were silent for a couple of minutes occasionally looking at each other. Mary Jane finally smiled and dragged her chair closer to Peter's bed.  
"When are you getting outta here?"  
Peter sighed, "The doctors said tomorrow. Too bad the vacation has been cut short." Peter readjusted his position on the bed facing her, "So, I heard that you getting into journalism-"  
MJ gave a huge smile, "Yeah! Isn't it something?"  
Peter frowned, "I thought theater was your passion-"  
"It still is, but I like journalism too. Right now, I'm in a theater company while going to college. I love it even though I have to attend the practices after class."  
"College? Where?"  
"Well, I spent a year at Brooklyn Community College, my major being theater. But then I had to take an elective that year, so I was forced in a way to take journalism. The ironic the thing was, I fell in love with it. After that year, I transferred to Rochester Institute of Technology were I'm studying now."  
"Wow," said Peter thoughtfully, "You've changed."  
"So have you." MJ said biting her lip in thought. "What about you? You still going to NYU?"  
"Yeah," Peter said  
"What's your major?"  
"Biochemistry: it's a blast, really." Peter said with sarcasm.  
Mary Jane smiled as she got up from her chair, leaned over and rustled his hair playfully, "I gotta go, Tiger. We should go out to lunch sometime, catch up if you want." Peter smiled and nodded, "Sure".  
He watched Mary Jane leave his hospital room with happiness. He buried himself in his blankets and attempted to fall asleep. As he closed his eyes, he didn't remember being this happy in a long time. 


End file.
